In A Curious Way
by quintessential-dreamer
Summary: "The stranger is sitting cross-legged in front of the railings, unmoving, eyes fixed on the spectacle before him. Kurt can see the flames reflected in his glassy eyes, and it is both terrifying and entrancing how his eyes seem to glow, watery and scarlet." original idea for this fic not mine


_Shit, _he thinks, because the flames are reaching high, high up to the clouds, and smoke is billowing out everywhere and he isn't sure he's seen such a huge fire before. To be honest, his knees feel the slightest bit wobbly, which is insane, because he's been doing this for three months now and why should this time be any different?

"Kurt!" He swings around guiltily, mad at himself for standing there ogling like an idiot when the rest of the team have been doing things of actual use.

"Sorry," he gasps and races over to where Josh, his superior, has just called him from, trying hard not to keep staring at the burning building but unable to help himself. It's an abandoned one, thank goodness, and very out of the way in some weird almost-creepily deserted area. _Thank goodness for that, _because this one could do so much damage if it were in a more populated area. He wonders who sounded the alarm; there doesn't seem to be anyone else out here apart from them firefighters.

Josh yells out commands, and soon a whole group of them are streaming forward, closer to the building, armed and ready.

"Kurt, you come with me," and Kurt is too surprised to say anything, so he hurries over to Josh's side. Josh's face is a hardened mask of seriousness, his lips drawn into a thin line. He looks worried. _Oh no, Josh is never worried, _and it's true – he's always calm and in control of the situation, even when most of the other more experienced fire fighters are starting to freak out a little. Everyone looks up to Josh; he's their leader and they all love him despite his gruff manner.

"We're going in," Josh commands, and Kurt can't help but squeak in terror. In? _In _in? He takes another apprehensive look at the burning building and good god, but the fire is raging uncontrollably and he can barely see through the growing cloud of smoke surrounding it…

"We're going in?" he echoes, and hopes Josh can't hear the terror in his voice.

"Relax," Josh says brusquely, "you'll be fine. Just stay close. We have to make sure no one is trapped inside."

_It's an abandoned building! No one's going to be inside! _Kurt wants to scream, but he suppresses the urge and reminds himself that this is protocol and what sort of fire fighter would he be anyway if he was too afraid to do his job? To be honest, he doesn't quite know how he landed up in this profession anyway. He remembers, with nostalgia, his snarky fashionable high school self, full of hopes and dreams and grand visions of the future, and wonders how his life has ended up like this.

But this isn't the very best time to reminisce, so he musters up his courage and follows after Josh, trailing behind him as they run towards the inferno.

As they move in closer, his eyes start to water painfully and he chokes a little on the thick, clogged up air. "Mask!" Josh yells back at him urgently. _Right. _He snaps it on and immediately feels much better. _You can do this, Kurt Hummel, keep your head held high, _he tells himself, ignoring the fear pooling in his belly and focusing on seeing straight instead of thinking about the frantic beating of his heart.

Josh finds an entrance into the building, and they burst into a huge unenclosed space, and _wow it's sweltering in here. _The room they're in is stuffy and dark but untouched, though Kurt's sure the fire will reach it eventually.

"This way,' Josh mutters, turning left to move briskly down some sort of dimly lit hallway, and Kurt slides after him, hoping that Josh can't smell the fear emanating off him in waves. They keep on moving, never once encountering the fire, which is surprising, because it looked so huge from the outside. Kurt can't really think, the only thought in his mind is to just _follow_ and _keep on moving_, although he feels his legs trembling beneath him. He can only hear his own breathy panting, the sound of his feet slapping onto the concrete floor and the pounding in his ears.

Now they are sliding down some sort of corridor, and it is very dark and very quiet.

Then there is a huge crashing sound, and he hears it before he sees it. The whole ceiling collapses and parts of the wall come crashing down, and he has just enough time to scream and throw himself backwards before the blaze follows and the ground before him is ablaze in the most vivid shades of amber and crimson and gold. His head bashes into the ground and his back is in agony and he is conquered by an overwhelming sense of panic. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. _

He can feel the heat on his face, stinging mercilessly, and he can only scramble backwards desperately, fingers finding little purchase on the smooth concrete floor that's starting to heat up and _is this what it feels like to die_? The smoke is hot and heavy around him, and it's getting hard to think clearly or even breathe, and _oh god but where is Josh is he alright please he can't be dead_ and then _I'm too young to die_.

His fingers hurt from scrabbling on the ground, and he tries to stand, but his legs seem to have lost all control and can only twist limply on the ground as he pushes his way backwards, _away from the flames that is key, _but he's too slow, and the raging waves are creeping closer and closer and closer and his head is spinning in a very, very bad way…

A hand grabs hold of his arm in a vice-like grip, tugging furiously, but Kurt can't move.

"Hurry!" a voice hisses, pulling harder, and he half rolls onto his side but it's no use, he's stuck to the ground, splayed limply.

Then the hold on his arm disappears and he slumps back down, thinking _there goes my only hope_. But suddenly he feels someone lifting him from the sides, pulling him to an almost-standing position before twisting around to position Kurt on his back, then bouncing up with a tiny _oomph _so Kurt is being piggybacked like a five year old.

The stranger makes to move, but Kurt clings weakly to his shoulders and manages to rasp out a few words. "Josh… he… stuck… fire…"

"He'll be fine," the stranger says harshly, before striding away at amazing speed, considering that Kurt is on his back. Kurt wants to thank this nameless, faceless guy, but he's feeling unusually sluggish, so he simply lets his face fall on the neck of the stranger.

He doesn't know how long they've been moving, but then he feels himself being dropped rather unceremoniously onto the ground. He lands heavily on his side, but miraculously that helps to jolt him from his lethargy. He hurries to his feet, shaking his head, and comes face to face to his savior, who's smaller than he imagined.

He's also very beautiful. Kurt can't help his mouth from gaping slightly – slightly, only slightly – as he runs his eyes over the man. He is young, looks about Kurt's age, but is very thin and is dressed in tattered and rather blackened clothes. He is thin and grimy and his face is smudged with soot, but oh!

The man has dark curly hair that curls delicately over the tips of his ears, and a longish face, and the hugest eyes Kurt's ever seen. Their colour is impossible to determine – greenish but also amber, and with the slightest hint of... gold? They almost glow in the dark, and contain a sort of hungriness in them. They are intense and mysterious and alluring, and Kurt gulps, because the man is staring at him too, with that forceful gaze…

That's when Kurt realizes that they're still in the building, though now in a rather secluded corner which feels relatively cool. He has no idea where they are, but the stranger seems unconcerned, standing very still and still gazing into Kurt's eyes expressionlessly.

He shrugs and breaks the eye contact. "We have to get out of here," he whispers, then clears his throat and repeats more forcefully, "We need to go!"

The stranger raises a dark eyebrow at him, and turns. "Exit's that way," he says, and his voice is deep and full and lingers in Kurt's ears hauntingly. He feels his heart flutter in the strangest way. But the stranger is walking in the opposite direction in which he is pointing.

"No!" Kurt cries out before he can stop himself. The stranger turns to stare at him impassively. "I mean, um, where are you going?"

"To watch." His voice is husky and growly and Kurt wants to swoon and _wow now is not the time but he wants to tell him how lovely his voice sounds and how beautiful he is. _

"Watch what?" he says stupidly instead. The stranger doesn't deign to reply. He turns away and disappears round a corner. "Stop!" Kurt hurries after him, feeling stupid, but it doesn't matter, he can't just let the stranger out of his sight like that.

He turns the corner and _whoa_. He's standing on some sort of narrow balcony, and before him is a whole wall of fire. The colours are unimaginable, just hues and hues of red, orange and yellow, swirling together in dazzling spirals of light and spilling up into glowing, jagged edges of pure molten crimson. He's mesmerized for a few moments, then the spell breaks and he sees the ire for what it truly is: death.

The stranger is sitting cross-legged in front of the railings, his nose almost sticking out between the bars. His hands are clenched tightly around the railings, his body angled forward eagerly. He sits unmoving, eyes fixed on the spectacle before him. Kurt can see the flames reflected in his glassy eyes, and it is both terrifying and entrancing how his eyes seem to glow, watery and scarlet, hooded by long, curling eyelashes.

He shakes himself out of his reverie. "What are you doing?" he asks, and doesn't mean to sound as incredulous as he does.

"Watching," the stranger slurs in reply, his voice almost melodic.

"We have to go! We're going to die!" His voice is dripping with disbelief. Okay, so he definitely sounds very judging now.

The stranger finally turns to face him, and his eyes are shining. Kurt inhales sharply, and forces himself not to get lost in their shimmering depths.

"But isn't it beautiful?" he asks, voice bursting with admiration, "look at the way it just devours everything in its path, so powerful, so… magical." His voice has dipped to a low croon now, and he stands up to look eye to eye to Kurt.

"It's so delightful, isn't it?"

Kurt has taken several steps back by now, and he feels a sharp chill run through his body. "You're crazy," he hears himself saying. "You're insane! It's gonna kill the both of us!"

The stranger is shaking his head vehemently, his lips pursed. "No, it won't, it won't hurt us here!" His words are almost defensive. "It doesn't mean any harm," he continues earnestly, and in that time Kurt can spot a crazed glint in his eyes.

Kurt shudders, feeling thoroughly fearful now, and when he responds, his voice trembles a little. "You don't know that. Fire… it doesn't stop for anyone." Subconsciously, he realizes how insane it is that he's having such a conversation now, and for god's sake he's a _firefighter_, he's supposed to be the one _in charge _in a situation like this. Instead, he's having a conversation with a maniac about the intents of fire while one burns not more than a couple of metres away. Who is this guy anyway? Why the hell is he here, in an abandoned building in the middle of the night?

The stranger eyes him oddly. "It does for me," and his voice is a hoarse whisper, and Kurt knows he shouldn't feel a thrill run through the base of his belly but it does.

"It doesn't," he begins, but is cut off sharply.

"I _know_ fire!" the stranger snarls as he takes a small step forward, voice raised hysterically, eyes blazing. Kurt stumbles back slightly in shock; he can't help it. "I know it." Now his voice is calmer, but Kurt can hear the passion seeping below the surface of his words angrily. Kurt feels his hands shaking and plaster them to his sides so the stranger won't notice. His palms are damp.

"I make it." Suddenly his face slackens and his mouth widens into a beatific smile. "I create it," he says softly, almost tenderly.

"You… you set the fire?" Kurt asks dumbly, and his heart is speeding, he's so scared; yet in a twisted, perverse way, he's drawn to this rag tag stranger with breathtaking eyes and such a strong affinity to fire. He's crazy – oh! but in the best, most intense way possible.

The stranger nods triumphantly, and his grin widens, and he just looks so _happy _that Kurt's heart aches to witness it.

Then there is a strange crackling noise, and his brilliant smile transforms into a slightly regretful one.

"It's time to go," he sing-songs – is that nostalgia in his voice? –, and then he is moving, grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him off the balcony. He drags Kurt behind him, speeding past their little corner and down a series of narrow, equally dull corridors. His hand is warm and fits perfectly with Kurt's, causing tingles to run through his fingers. Kurt, for some reason, doesn't pull away.

Just in time; behind them, Kurt hears a loud splitting sound followed by a muted roar, and imagines the fire eating away at the fallen balcony.

"Where are we going?" Kurt pants.

"Out!" the stranger replies almost gleefully.

In no time at all, they are back in the open, with the starry night sky high above them, and Kurt takes in gulps of fresh air, enjoying the coolness on his skin. They keep running, until they are a good distance away from the burning building. They stop, and Kurt leans down with his palms on his knees, panting.

When he recovers, the stranger is standing a few feet away, back facing Kurt with his arms crossed, watching as the last of the building collapses and the flames spit up into the darkness. Kurt waits until the stranger tears his gaze away from the disaster ground.

They look at each other for a while, silently. The stranger speaks first.

"Are you going to turn me in?"

"No." The answer leaves Kurt's lips easily, even though he knows it's wrong wrong wrong.

The stranger simply nods. Then, "why not?"

"I don't know," Kurt whispers. He knows that the man probably belongs to some sort of mental hospital, but he can't stop himself from moving forward so he's close enough to see the glowing orange in his eyes.

"Some sort of firefighter you are," the stranger observes, but his voice teasing.

Kurt ducks his head in embarrassment. When he lifts his chin back up, the stranger is surprisingly close; but in a good way. So close that Kurt can see the glint of his teeth between his pink lips, so close that he can feel the added heat coming from the stranger's body, and see the trails of sweat dripping down his temple. His breath catches in his throat, and he finds himself lost in the stranger's eyes yet again.

"I'm sorry," Kurt manages to say.

"Don't be," and his voice is slow and hypnotizing.

Kurt knows this is ridiculous, this is absurd and outrageous and just plain crazy, he's with a demented arsonist who's almost gotten them both killed, and hell, he doesn't even know his _name_ – but still he leans forward and parts his lips slightly.

Their mouths meet, and it is like nothing other than Kurt has ever experienced. He has read romance novels before, and he knows about the sparks and the electricity and all that crap, and of course he's kissed other guys before – but that hasn't prepared him for what _this _would be like.

It feels like everything. There is the deep, deliberate burn that starts in his stomach, the explosion of heat where their lips touch, the heady feeling of losing himself completely in the moment.

The stranger's hands are on either sides of Kurt's face, pulling him closer, and Kurt feels his own arms looping around his shoulders, tugging so that their chests are flush. They kiss, hard, and the stranger's lips chafe roughly against his. Kurt lets out a moan and crushes his lips to his. The stranger's tongue slides across his upper lip, then pushes forcefully into his mouth, exploring new territory, tracing the tip down the inside of his mouth, and Kurt gasps because oh _god _this is so, so good. Kurt encircles the stranger's lower lip with his teeth, and bites down. He hears the stranger's groan, feels the way his neck arches and his head tips up. Kurt tastes blood, and sweat, and maybe even soot, but mostly the thrill of what they're doing

When they break apart, gasping, the stranger's face is flushed, his eyes wide and even brighter than before.

Kurt takes a step back, chest heaving, biting down on his lower lip. They don't say anything for a long while.

"I should go," the stranger finally says, voice flat.

Kurt doesn't know what to say, because he's just made out with a man who is literally a complete stranger, and even though it felt right at that time, now it feels very, very wrong.

So he just nods.

"Okay."

The stranger stares Kurt up and down hungrily, drinking in the image, as if committing him to memory. He returns his gaze to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye," Kurt replies as formally.

With a last glance, the stranger turns around and starts running.

This, too, feels very, very wrong.

"Wait!" Kurt cries. The stranger turns back quizzically.

"What's your name?"

There is a pause, then the stranger yells back a reply. "Blaine."

Blaine.

Kurt nods, acknowledging his reply. Blaine nods back, then turns around for the second time and disappears off into the darkness.

Kurt stares emptily at the spot where Blaine once stood, feeling an indescribable sense of loss.

"Blaine," he tries out, and the name thrums perfectly in his throat, slips from his lips tenderly, released gently into the silence of the night, like a caress.


End file.
